Emily Kenyon 01 - A Cold Dark Place

WA. Tacoma area.
    Emily took her cell phone to the sitting room adjacent to the bedroom. It occurred to her that the space would have been a better work area than her bed. A lot better. She sighed and punched the speed dial number for David. It went immediately to voice mail. He was on the phone. She sighed and dialed Olga’s number.
    “Emily?” Olga answered. “Is that you? Are you all right?”
    “It’s me. I’m sorry it took so long to call you back. The day has been a nightmare.”
    “I know. I heard about Bonnie turning up dead”
    “Oh,” Emily said, slumping into a chair. “What’s the media saying?”
    “It hasn’t been on the news,” Olga said. “A friend of mine from Seattle PD called me. Gruesome. You found her?”
    “Yes,” Emily said, softly, unable to stop the images of what she’d found from playing once more. The blocked-out windows. Bonnie on the bed. Everything soaked in blood. The little pink purse. The baby pictures. They rolled, one after another. She changed the subject to save herself from reliving it even more.
    “Do you know anything about Bonnie’s family?” Emily asked.
    “What family? She was an only child. Her parents disowned her when she went head over heels over Walker. I talked to them one time, very briefly. Ran into them at the Angel’s Nest trial. I was going to testify that she was a nut job, but I was never called.”
    “There were baby pictures in the hallway,” Emily said. “She must have had someone in her life. No sibs?”
    “None that I ever knew about. Best friend was Tina Walker and the love of her life was Mr. Wonderful, Dylan Walker.”
    Emily’s phone indicated that David was calling and Emily told Olga that she’d get back to her as soon as she could. She said good-bye and pushed the Talk button.
    “I tried calling a moment ago”
    “I know,” David said, his voice cool. “What did you want?”
    “Our daughter, of course. God, do you have to be such an ass about all of this?”
    “You haven’t exactly made my life easy.”
    “Easy? Let’s not go there”
    David exhaled. “All right. Jenna’s not here. We haven’t seen her all day. I left you a message to call me.”
    “I’ve been busy.” Though she felt defensive just then, Emily also felt a wave of panic. She’d hoped that Jenna was home with her father. She didn’t see the need to tell him about the Jeffries murder nor about Jenna’s coin purse being found there. Neither could she admit that she’d reconnected with Christopher Collier, albeit at a crime scene. The name would enrage David. He’d been the source of many of their arguments in the past.
    “Why don ‘t you just confide in your cop buddy?
    “You have your own little girl now Kristi Cooper has been dead for years. Get over it. I’m your husband. Christopher Collier is married to someone else.”
    “Christopher called. He’s worried about you.”
    There had never been any real reason for the jealousy. Their relationship had never been sexual. But David didn’t see it that way.
    “David, we’ve got to find her. Jenna’s in trouble.”
    “Besides her boyfriend with the dead family, what do you mean? Jesus, Emily, what is going on?” His patience was maxed out and the familiar timbre of his irritated voice was in full force.
    “Look, I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t have a goddamn clue right now. But this is bad. This is serious. You need to act like her father. You need to make her safe”
    “Don’t start lecturing me. She was living with you when she ran off.”
    “You know something? I’m glad that you have Dani. She’s a bigger bitch than I could ever be “
    Emily snapped the phone shut. And it felt good.

Chapter Twenty-eight
    Sunday, 2:10, Seattle
    Emily felt her pocket. The little pink change purse. Jenna and Nick had been at Bonnie Jeffries’s house. They’d probably found her in the phone book or in some Google search at the library. What had they seen? What had they done?
    The “Watching the Detectives” ringtone sounded. Emily reached for her cell. The number was local, but unfamiliar. She answered.
    “Emily? It’s Christopher Collier. We’re wrapping up the scene. Pending notification, this is going to make some news. The media will probably want to talk to you”
    Her heart sank. It would take two seconds for even the worst Seattle reporter to make a connection with her name and past news items.
    “Can’t you leave me out of this? I’ve got my own problems